


Stranger Things

by Lyrstzha



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Dead Zone
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-24
Updated: 2008-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:50:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrstzha/pseuds/Lyrstzha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander and Walt may be on opposite sides of jailhouse bars, but they're on exactly the same side of the weirdness that is their respective lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lomedet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lomedet/gifts).



"Uh huh," Walt said, locking the cell door firmly behind the young man. "You were only chasing—with a giant axe, I might add—after that tiny, screaming woman because she's a _vampire_. Not because you're a homicidal maniac or _anything_."

Xander lifted a finger and opened his mouth to defend himself, then paused and blinked. He tilted his head to the side a bit and narrowed his remaining eye thoughtfully. "You know, when you put it that way, I can see how it does sound kinda bad."

Walt snorted. "I don't think 'kinda bad' really covers it, kid." He turned away to head back to his office with a shake of his head.

"Wait!" Xander leaned up against the bars, reaching out a hand in entreaty. "I know how it looks. Really, I do. But I'm telling you the truth, okay? I get that you're having trouble jumping on board with the vampire thing. I felt the same way the first I heard of it; I totally feel your pain."

Walt swung back around and eyed the kid thoughtfully. "Look, Harris," he sighed. "I can tell that you're really serious about this stuff. I believe that _you_ believe it. But that's not helping your case so much."

Xander's chin came up in a short, decisive, challenging jerk. "Okay, try this on for size. I've been tracking that vamp pretty much on a direct path all the way up from Boston. Check into unexplained deaths on the way. Hell, have you got any bodies missing a few pints in the morgue right here?"

Walt stepped a little closer, still out of arm's reach, but at a better range to study Xander's face carefully. "And if I did, that would prove I'm looking for a vampire perp? Because I'm thinking it sounds a lot more likely that a violently delusional kid tried to make his crazy fantasies come true."

Xander startled backwards slightly in surprise, his eye widening. "Okay, I really should have seen that one coming, huh?" He slumped a little against the bars and ran a hand through his hair. "Of course that's more reasonable. I mean, yeah, vampires versus whack-job? Nine times out of ten, whack-job's probably the safe bet." He ducked his head and quirked a rueful half-grin, adding, "Not in California, maybe, but still." He looked back up at Walt earnestly. "But I promise you, this is that one time in ten. I'm not crazy, and more people are gonna die if you don't listen to me—not _today_, cause yeah, dawn any minute now, but tomorrow night? Definitely. I know it's a leap of faith, but stranger things on heaven and earth, right?"

Walt surprised them both by chuckling softly. "Got _that_ right. I used to think the world was a sane, sensible place, but I was so, so wrong." He blew out his breath and glanced at his watch. "Okay, I'll tell you what I'll do. I've got a friend I'd like you to meet; if he says you're telling the truth after he's touched you, I'll buy into all this. Lock, stock, and freaking barrel."

Xander pulled away from the bars and took a few steps back. "Um. Touched me? Is this some kind of prison thing? Because I've seen _Oz_, and that isn't exactly—"

Walt made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh trying to pass itself off as a cough. "No, no, no," he said, waving his hands back and forth for extra emphasis. "Nothing like that. What do you think this is, a federal pen? My friend's a psychic; he gets visions from touching things. Like your _hand_, Harris," he added, when Xander didn't lose his leery expression.

Xander raised his eyebrows; the patch shifted a little in the hollow of his eye, seeming somehow to add extra attitude to the gesture. "A psychic? I'm crazy for one little vampire, and you have a _psychic_? Seriously?"

"Yeah, yeah. Glass houses, Harris." Walt pulled out his car keys with a metallic jingle. "You just sit tight. It's going to take me a little while to pick up coffee and doughnuts and my friend."

Xander nodded gravely. "Pastry makes everything better."

Walt nodded back. "Especially psychics," he answered, somewhat cryptically. He turned on his heel and strode out the door.

"A psychic polygraph," Xander remarked to the empty room musingly. "Stranger things." After a moment, he shrugged philosophically. "Funny how growing up in Sunnydale really resets the bar on your weirdness meter pretty high."


End file.
